Perfectly contained wilderness - Japanese irises in the Imperial Palace East Garden in Tokyo

Rolling fields of Japanese irises in full bloom - a lovely illusion of wilderness and a perfect contrast to the "formal" parts of the Imperial Palace East Garden.

 

Despite having walked around the Imperial Palace grounds on my previous trips to Tokyo, this was the first time that I actually entered the East Garden. I'm not quite sure why - but better late than never, I guess.

This 52 acre park is surrounded by deep moats, dramatic stone walls, and reached through several stone bridges and gates. It was built on grounds that belonged to the Edo Castle, the seat of the Tokugawa Shoguns that ruled Japan from 1603 to 1868. After that, the Meiji Restoration re-established the Imperial family's power, Edo was named Tokyo, and the Imperial family moved here from Kyoto. The palace has been rebuilt at least twice, first after a great fire in the late 19th century, and then due to destruction during the World War II. The East Garden forms its own area on the side of the actual palace complex, and is the only part of the Tokyo Imperial Palace grounds that is open to public.

 

 Seimon Ishibashi bridge leads to the main entrance to the palace (the entrance to the gardens available to public is on the east side of the palace grounds).

The huge moat remains from the Edo period, together with several beautiful guard towers.
 

 The monumental stone walls are so beautiful - I love the arched (do you call them that...?) corners, they are so typically Japanese in form.

 

The adjective most often used to describe these gardens seems to be "manicured" - with a hint of... I'm not quite sure what, arrogance maybe, or some kind of imagined superiority. I'm not sure why. I mean, what would you expect from a garden just outside the palace and residence of Emperor Akihito, the 125th emperor of his line? Not an avant garde patch with experimental plantings, but a garden that transmits the permanence and continuity of the imperial office and the Japanese culture through their traditional garden design - definitely not one that is just "accidentally there".

 

The wilder parts of the gardens, closer to the outer edge, with meadows filled with Japanese irises under cherries, most of which had already finished flowering.

 Iris japonica, such a perfect plant for the Emperor's gardens.

The irises and cherries were nearly done with their blooming; kerrias, azaleas and wisterias were just beginning theirs.

A little stream under Japanese maples just furling out their leaves, together with grasses and variegated bamboos...

 One more picture of the Japanese irises... I loved the wild and free feeling of some parts of the gardens.

 

Anyway. The walls and moats form a strong, impressive frame to the garden as you enter the garden  - they can't be seen from inside, but the impression stays in your mind. In the actual garden, paths linger around beds of bearded irises form like rivers through the garden; hedges of azaleas and rhododendrons are closely trimmed into sculptural forms; behind ponds, they disappear into a wilderness of rolling fields filled with Japanese irises. The whole effect is based on the contrast of the contained and the wild. All carefully planned, executed and maintained, of course - but then, what else would you expect of a garden of this rank?

 

Only very few cherries were still in flower here, but the buds of the wisteria (see pergola in the middle of the picture) were swelling, and will be gorgeous just in a couple of weeks.

 

 

A tiny waterfall run down into from the wilder parts of the garden into the pond below.

Yet another angle on the pergola - several artistically pruned pines were part of the gardens.

 

The lovely Suwa no chaya tea house, also from the Edo period, is part of the gardens - unfortunately (and understandably...), no tea was served here to the strolling visitors.  

Peony gazing in Ueno Park in Tokyo

Entrance to the peony garden in Ueno Park in Tokyo.

Last week was our spring break and we spent it in Tokyo, almost exactly two years since our previous trip there. This year's spring had been warm, so all things green had developed a bit further than then. Still, we managed to catch loads of sakura trees in full bloom and even sit under then, with falling petals swirling down like snowflakes around us.

Paper parasols are used to protect the flowers from too much sun - such a typically Japanese, beautiful way to do things...

 Old ladies taking a rest in the shade.

More about the cherries later; another glorious favorite of the Japanese, the tree peony, was also just coming to full bloom in the gardens. While strolling around Ueno Park, the oldest of Tokyo's many public gardens, we popped into an area specifically dedicated to these sumptuous bloomers. It felt like we were transported back in time; the wooden signs showing the names, and the bamboo shelters and paper parasols protecting the flowers were just like in some old pictures I'd seen, depicting "peony gazing" in Japan during long gone eras.

A hand-colored 19th century photo of ladies gazing peonies in Tokyo - maybe even in the Ueno Park?
Tree peonies are thought to have arrived to Japan from China already in the 8th century, but their cultivation became widely popular first in the Edo Period (1603 to 1868). Due to this long history, they are often depicted in visual arts and poetry, representing good fortune as well as a righteous and noble spirit.

Nothing seems to have changed in the arrangement of the flowers during the last hundred years...

Mainly older Japanese ladies and gentlemen were admiring the huge peony blooms, frequently stopping to discuss their specifics along their route around the rised flower beds. Many of them took countless pictures of the flowers, with huge lenses for recording their minute details. It felt just like they'd never seen such beauties before, even if their ages clearly showed that it couldn't be the case. This was all about the peonies and nothing else; very few other plants were allowed to mingle and distract from the stars of the show.

My favorite old uncle - first, he examined the flowers carefully, then took what seemed like thousands of photos of them with his special lens...

A couple of weeks, and the fleeting glory of the peonies is over; just like the sakura, maybe the favorite flower of the Japanese, they are such a great reminder of how nothing is everlasting.

A moment at the Shoren-in Temple

A visitor having a pause from the daily grind on the wooden veranda at Shoren-in.

 

With the risk of sounding all too unorganized as a traveler, my visit to Shoren-in was again quite improvised... On my way to another garden, I was attracted by the ancient camphor trees in front of some old gates, and couldn't keep myself from peeking in.

The Shoren-in temple is well-known in Japan for its strolling gardens, even if they seldom figure on any international books or websites. The building feels more like a residence, and has actually functioned as such for the imperial family during the Great Fire which raged in Kyoto in 1788 - at that time, it was called Awata Gosho, or the Awata Imperial Palace, despite being quite tiny for the purpose. 

The gnarled, ancient camphor tree that attracted me to peek inside the temple gates... there are five of them in total within the temple grounds.
  

The site is so called monzeki temple, which is a term only used for temples with strong connections to families of imperial or high rank (like high court officers, or samurai families). Traditionally, members of these families served as the head monks or nuns of monzeki temples, so these institutions had a great influence in the Japanese Buddhism because of their close cultural and political relationship with the imperial family and samurai feudal governments.

The temple itself is famous for its statuary as well as for its place in Japanese history; it protected the priests Honen and Shinran, who developed the Tendai-sect of Buddhism in the 13th century. Contemporary followers of this sect regard Shoren-in as a particularly sacred place, which was clearly evident from the silently gracious behavior of the older Japanese who were visiting at the same time as I. Not as severely impressive as Ryoan-ji or as spectacular as Kinkaku-ji, the Shoren-in temple was nevertheless gracefully elegant, and had an wonderfully live and intimate feeling - in my imagination, I could see the noble monks wandering through the paths or sitting on the verandas, deeply sunken to their Zen meditations, just like the visitor during my visit, having a respite from his daily grind on the wooden veranda.

 

The central Ryushinchi pond; the name means 'Heart of Dragon'. The gardens are at the foot of Mount Awata and take an advantage of the hills behind; see how the bamboo forms a green, vertical curtain behind the pond.

Another view of the Ryushinchi pond; I took this from the veranda that can be seen to the right in the picture above.

 

 Moving into the next building of the temple, again with verandas for meditating and garden viewing...

 

Unfortunately, I don't think my pictures like the one above make justice to the place... the buildings and gardens are connected by covered wooden walkways, all of which offer different views of the gardens. 

One of the buildings with a wonderful view of the gardens; tatamis cover all the floors, and the walls (sometimes sliding doors) are painted beautifully - as here, with bold and quite modern looking lotus flowers.

 And one more huge camphor tree, from the inner gardens. I have this strange love for old trees that I can't really explain - I feel really close and protective of them... and here, again, is one to love.

 

Dropping by Kyōto Gosho, the imperial palace in Kyoto

A small part of the high walls around the Kyoto Imperial Palace situated within the large palace enclosure. This venerable, 300-year old tree is known as the 'Muku of the Shimizudani residence' after the house of a court noble who lived nearby in the ancient times. Alive and well, it still needs some help from sturdy wooden poles - so typical for Japanese gardens.

 

Here's another unscripted visit... one of our mornings in Kyoto with no fixed plans for the day, I noticed that Kyōto Gosho, the Imperial Palace of Kyoto, would be opening for its annual five spring days, so we decided to take a stroll there from our hotel close by to see if the crowds would be reasonable enough to allow for a visit. Of course, the two lines were long well before the opening time, but we stayed, curious about the contents within the high walls.

 

Sharply at 9 am, the palace gates were opened and the (mostly Japanese) crowds welled into the grounds, well-behaved as always - no pushing or skipping queues here. Also, the crowds were remarkably silent, whispering to each other only in gentle voices, which I took as a sign of their reverence to the emperor. Of course, I'm not sure if I read this correctly, or if it just was just another sign of the constant politeness of the Japanese (rather pleasantly, they don't even speak to their mobile phones when using public transport - can you imagine that in any other country?).

 

The palace and gardens are surrounded by high walls with four large gates, and to reach them you have to walk through the old palace enclosure within its easily recognizable, beautiful stone walls. Earlier, several residences of high court nobles were situated within this area, but were demolished and replaced with a park when the court moved to Tokyo; Shu Sui Tei teahouse, that I wrote for about a week ago is one of the few remains of the luxurious residences within the enclosure.

 

The Imperial Palace in Kyoto was the seat of the Emperor from the Heian period (794-1185) until the end of the Edo period (1603-1868). In 1869, the Emperor moved with his court to the Old Edo, which became the official capital of Japan and changed its name to Tokyo, which means 'Capital of the East'. Despite this, Kyōto-gosho has still had an important role as a ceremonial site, and both Taisho and Showa emperors had their coronation ceremonies here.

 

Despite the palace grounds and buildings being handsomely impressive and the gardens extremely well-tended - as could be expected - I wouldn't necessarily recommend someone to make an extra effort to see them. The palace and even the gardens do feel a bit too official and a bit 'dead', which is understandable as they today only serve for ceremonial purposes. With most of us having a limited amount of time in Kyoto, there are so many more interesting, beautiful and/or charming places to see and experience. For us, the charm was mostly in the unexpected, and we left contented, enjoying afterwards a green tea with some bean paste cakes in the outer gardens where tents had been set up to serve the crowds with traditional Japanese spring time delicacies.   

 

The whole palace enclosure was carefully prepared for its five day spring opening - the crowds didn't disappoint and turned up in the thousands... One of the large, wooden gates leading to the palace and gardens inside the high walls.

 

More gates within the gates... the inner, vermilion painted Jomeimon gates lead to the large,
ceremonial inner courtyard in front of the Shishin-den main hall; the coronation ceremonies take place here.

The Jomeimon gate from inside; the white gravel of the large inner courtyard has been meticulously raked...

The hipped gables of the Shishin-den main hall. Sacred trees stand on each side of its main stairway, a Sakonno sakura (cherry) on the eastern, and above, a Ukonno tachibana (a wild native citrus tree) on the western side.

 

The Oikeniwa garden outside the ceremonial halls has a large pond, with several stone bridges arching over the water.

 

Seiryō-den, where the Emperors would be conducting their personal affairs... I wonder what that could have been, in their highly ceremonial and official lives? A rare bamboo towers in front of the building, caged in a wooden crate.

Large paintings with scenes from the imperial lives fill the walls inside the imperial palace.

 

The thatched gables of the Otsunegoten imperial villa on the palace grounds. 

 

Wooden bridge in the inner, Gonaitei garden, strictly reserved for the Emperor's private use.

 

One of the many stone paths in the Gonaitei-garden.

Another small bridge, and mossy stones from the Gonaitei-garden...

A pebbled water stream, and a pine tree with a tutu - Japanese structures for supporting trees and plants are just the most beautiful in the world!

 

 

Extremely unnatural nature - all plants were carefully pruned into the ideally suited form for the garden - very Japanese and very beautiful (and I know that some of you completely disagree with the practice...).

The Kyoto Imperial Palace is open for public 5 days each spring and autumn; otherwise, visits are available only by booking a tour through the Imperial Household Agency (at 10am and 2pm daily).

Hama-Rikyu gardens - a breathing space in central Tokyo

The huge flower field of Hama-rikyu provides a shimmering escape from the busy city life, with rape flowers in full bloom in spring and cosmos in late summer. Shiodome's skyscrapers loom in the background, reminding of the reality...

 

In Tokyo, an early morning visit to the Tsukiji fish market - world's largest such - is kind of a must, especially if you love seafood (so much that tourists are seen as pests by the fishmongers...). The bustle and commerce can be a bit overwhelming, but the variety of the edible harvest from the seas is truly amazing to view; from huge tunas to meat-filled seashells and leathery seaweed varieties to tiniest little fish, you will guaranteed see things you never thought were edible (or even existed). Eating the freshest possible sushi in one of the little restaurants in the market area crowns the morning - it will be the measuring stick to all the sushi you will eat afterwards. Unless you really are hard core about fish, there's no need to be there for the 5 AM tuna auction; plenty remains to see even at 7 or 8 am. After 9, the activity cools significantly down, and buyers start to transport their catch to the restaurants all over Tokyo and Japan.

 

Huge stone walls surround the garden; it was built on land reclaimed from the sea, and features a huge tidal pond inside the walls.

Cherries in full bloom, and one of the arched bridges leading over the many ponds. If you look closely, you can detect a team of gardeners in work, cloud pruning the old pines.

View from Fujimi hill, the highest point in the gardens, towards Nakajima-no-ochaya, the floating tea room in the middle of one of the ponds.

 

After all the business of Tsukiji, the Hama-Rikyu gardens just a short stroll away is a great place to restore your senses. This large, open garden from mid 17th century was originally the duck-hunting grounds and summer residence of the Tokugawa shogunate, that is, the Tokugawa clan of military leaders called the shoguns, who run Japan from 1660 until the Meiji restoration reinstalled the Emperor to his throne in 1868. After this, the imperial family used the gardens as their beach residence.

 

 Another view of the huge flower field...

 

 O-tsutai-bashi, a 118 meter long bridge leading to the floating tearoom.

 

Nakajima-no-ochaya tea room, a popular spot for older Japanese to enjoy their tea...

Probably not what the Shoguns would have appreciated, but a well-needed break for my girls from the busy city...

 

Much of the gardens were built on reclaimed land, and they feature typical Japanese high stone walls and a large tidal water pond, which is regulated by several floodgates. The buildings on the site were badly damaged in the Great Kanto earth quake in 1923, and later again in the Second World War. The gardens and a couple of tea houses were restored after the war, and the park was donated to the city of Tokyo by the imperial family. There is really not much to see from the botanical point of view, but the Hama-Rikyu is worth visiting as a great example of a typical daimyo - which means a Japanese feudal lord, as the Tokugawas were - garden from the Edo period. And as a breathing space between all business of Tokyo, it is just priceless.

This is me, in 30+ years time... An old Japanese lady, who photographed what looked like every single cherry tree on in the large gardens.